Mended
by pjzallday
Summary: Part Three of "The Healing Trilogy": A B/S Holiday Ficlet


FEEDBACK: Always welcome (usually appreciated).

RATING: PG-13 

PAIRING: Buffy/Spike

DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine (but I think they'd be happier if they were).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This ficlet was inspired in part by Scarlett's "Spuffy Xmas Shopping" post and part by my own want to have a happy holiday season for Buffy and Spike. 

Special thanks to Eeyore for her encouragement, constructive criticism and title advice. (Here's a cookie).

This ficlet is the third in the series following "Torn" and "Broken". (But can easily be read as a stand alone.) Set post "Never Leave Me" (7x09).

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MENDED

Things had become awkward at the Summers' house over the past few days. 

When Buffy had first brought Spike home, everything was simple.  He was weak and needed to be cared for.  He was still at risk of the First's mind control, so he had to be watched.  Buffy could do that without Dawn or her friends posing too many questions.  The Slayer was doing what she had to for the safety of the good citizens of Sunnydale and because they needed Spike to help them defeat this latest evil.  Just as he was on the road to recovery, Buffy found herself in need of care --- care that Spike was happy to offer because, as she'd accepted, he loved her.  No one questioned the time they spent together because. well, no one else was home during the day.  But now, Spike had regained his strength and broken free of the First, and Buffy's ribs had healed.  There was no longer any excuse for them to spend time together.

None but patrolling.

For the better part of two weeks, Buffy and Spike patrolled nightly.  They discussed demon activity and prospective strategies for the next encounter with the Ubervamp.  They talked about what they'd done during the day, what was happening on _Passions_ and whatever awful thing was being called "lunch" in the school cafeteria.  Some of the time, they didn't talk at all, yet it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, the way it might have been between most other people.  Instead they just walked, enjoying the company.

On this night, as they climbed the front steps back at the house, the quiet returned.  Standing on the porch, they were like a couple of teenagers at the end of a first date.

"Well?" Spike sighed.

"Ah. Thanks for coming with me tonight," Buffy replied.  "Guess we should go in.  Big day tomorrow."

"Got the Scoobies comin' over to carve the Christmas goose then 'ave you?"

Buffy pursed her lips, more than a little uneasy about the pressures of hosting the holiday feast, and nodded. 

"Right then," Spike said.

Looking up to meet his face, Buffy marvelled at how truly beautiful he was in the golden ambient glow of the porch light.  His eyes sparkled; lips curled into the slightest hint of a grin.  His face appeared more full now than it had been when she'd rescued him over a month before.  And there was an air of strength or confidence about him that she'd hardly seen since he'd come back from Africa.

His brows knitted as she gazed at him then he cocked his head.  "Buffy?  What is it?" he inquired in response to the distant yet contented expression on her face.

Without a word; without a real conscious decision, she leaned into him and, resting a hand on his muscular chest, Buffy pressed her soft lips to his mouth.

Welcoming her advance, Spike wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer to him, meeting her kisses with increased enthusiasm, clearly enjoying the feel of Buffy's warm body close to his.  "Oh. God Buffy," Spike muttered.  "I've missed this."

Feeling strangely uncomfortable by his declaration, Buffy tensed and withdrew, dropping her chin and avoiding Spike's eyes.  "Well, we should go in.  It's. getting a little chilly out here," Buffy decided.

In a tone that exposed both his discouragement and frustration, Spike mumbled, "I was thinking quite the opposite, pet."

Pretending not to have heard him, Buffy opened the door and went inside with Spike following reluctantly behind.

"Good night, Spike.  Thanks again for your help with the patrolling," said Buffy very formally so as to dispel the suspicions of any would-be eavesdroppers that something more was going on between herself and her vampire houseguest.  Buffy started up the stairs, leaving Spike shaking his head and heading for the kitchen.

***

Restless even after she'd turned in, Buffy got up to go to the bathroom for a drink of water.  Without thinking, she walked right in to find Spike, who'd just come through the other door from the hall, towel and toiletries in hand.

"Buffy."  He obviously hadn't expected her to still be awake.  A look of terror crossed his face, which seemed to go suddenly paler in the harsh bright light of the bathroom.

"Spike, what is it?" Buffy asked bewildered by his odd reaction.  "What's the matter?" 

As she stepped toward him, he threw his hands up between them, dropping his shampoo and things to the floor.  "Stop Buffy.  Please stop there."  His eyes glistened with tears.

Though still confused by his behaviour, Buffy did as Spike had implored. 

Overcome with grief and shame, Spike backed himself against the closed bathroom door hiding behind his shoulder and raised hands.  

Then she realized what must have been happening; what had caused Spike to react to her in this almost hysterical way:  this was the first time since that terrible incident in the spring that they had been together in that very place.  

"Spike," Buffy began in a comforting tone.  "You're OK.  I'm fine.  Shh.  Calm down."  With her heart aching at the sight of him in such turmoil, Buffy slowly moved toward him.  "It's OK.  Things are different now.  Shh."  Cautiously, she took his hands and lowered them from his face.  With sympathetic wide eyes, she smiled and squeezed his hands in the hopes of assuring him of her forgiveness for the events of the horrible night so many months earlier.

"Buffy, I can't-"

"Shh." she hushed looking into his melancholic azure eyes. Guiding his hands to her lips, Buffy dotted each with a kiss. 

His eyes closed at the kindness of her touch and a woeful smile crossed his face. 

She released one hand and lowered the other still joined with her own. "Spike, come with me," she requested as she turned.  Finding no resistance, Buffy lead Spike by the hand through the bathroom to her bedroom, closing the door behind them.  

Buffy motioned for Spike to sit then settled herself close beside him on the edge of her bed. "Spike, things are different now," she stressed compassionately, her eyes locking on to his.  "We're different."  She raised a light hand and stroked the side of Spike's face. 

Never losing the gaze, Spike pressed his cheek into her hand. As he laced his own fingers with hers, he let out an impassioned sigh.

"I want you to believe," Buffy said quietly but firmly, "that I forgive you for."  She looked away briefly as the sentence trailed off, not wanting to spoil the moment with the direct reference to one of the more painful memories of their shared past.  "And I hope that one day, you'll be able to forgive me for using you the way I did."  Her heart was beating hard and fast in part at her plea but also with her love and lust for this man who had given so much for her.  Afraid of what he might say or do should she admit what was in her heart, she simply kissed him.  Long.  Warm.  Fervent. 

Spike gradually began to respond to Buffy's affections and soon after, he was kissing back hungrily.  Tears flooded his eyes.  Hands tense at his side fought to reach out and take her in his arms.

All of a sudden, Buffy broke the kiss and pulled away, gasping heavily.  She swallowed hard then nervously turned to meet Spike's devastated face.  She bit her lip as she began to unbutton her pajama top.  Her breaths were shaky as she drew open the silk to reveal her bare skin beneath.

Now his eyes were burning with desire for her yet he seemed uncertain.  Hesitantly, Spike raised his large pale hand to meet her velvety bronze skin. 

As cool fingers brushed across her heated flesh, Buffy could not contain a gasp.  Pressing in to him, she once again met the exhilarating chill of his fresh firm lips.  Teasing.  Tasting.  Exploring.  All the while wanting more.  Keenly, her tiny curious hands tugged at his shirt then slipped beneath the snug cotton, feeling their way over the taut ripples of his abdomen to the firm swells of his chest.  Seductively she peeled his shirt up, releasing his mouth to pull the garment over his head.  As she cast the shirt aside, Buffy began to nuzzle and nibble from his ear to the base of his neck. 

With sensation of Buffy ministrations and intoxicating scent of her in air, Spike threw back his head and moaned. 

Smiling inwardly with satisfaction at the pleasured response she'd received from her lover, Buffy lightly raked her fingers across his chest.  Strong.  Sinewy.  Easing back to meet his gaze, she strummed her splayed fingers down his tight torso. 

As she began to fumble with his belt, he rose to his feet, scooped her in his arms then nestled her on the pillows at the head of the turned-down bed.  At the side of the bed, looking wantonly into her eyes, Spike stood hands poised at his belt buckle.  "Are you sure about this, luv?" he asked in a tone that made Buffy wonder if he was sure himself. 

His implied uncertainty made her want him all the more.  Once again, this man was displaying his own vulnerability, his sensitivity, his desire to make everything right.  Buffy nodded and reached for him, placing a hand low on his back, yearning for him to join her.  "Yes, Spike," she urged, her voice ragged with need and passion.  "Make love with me... Please." 

Spike's eyelids fluttered, brow furled and he attempted suppress an elated smile.  They stared longingly. lovingly at each other as he divested himself of his remaining clothing and she caressed his newly exposed white skin.  He slid into the warm soft sheets.  Pressing his hard cool body against her hot supple one, their lips met once more.  It was as if everything else melted away.

***

Morning came.  

Buffy was forced from peaceful sleep by the pounding on her door.

"Buffy!  Buffy get up!" Dawn squealed.  "We're ready to open presents.  Hurry up and get downstairs!"

Without rolling over, she knew that Spike was no longer there.  That awareness left her with a sad empty feeling inside as she wondered why he'd gone.  She sighed with disappointment before stretching to get out of bed.  When she sat up, Buffy noticed a small box on the nightstand wrapped in emerald paper and topped with a small hand-tied ribbon bow.  She smirked, knowing from whom the gift had come.

She carefully tore into the paper then opened the box.  Inside, she found an antique silver locket and a note written in elegant script that said simply, _To__ keep those dearest, close to your heart._  Stringing the chain around her neck, she took hold of the locket and opened it.  Inside was a tiny photo of her mother, and one of Dawn.  She beamed with a happiness she'd really never known before. 

After slipping on her robe, Buffy headed downstairs to find Xander and Anya had arrived and were with Willow and Dawn enjoying muffins, orange juice and coffee near the colourfully lit tree.

"Morning Buffy," Willow greeted. 

And Xander added, "Merry Christmas."

"Can we open the presents now?" asked Dawn.

"Yes, is it time for presents?" Anya followed up, eagerly searching under the tree for the ones addressed to her.

"Give me a minute," Buffy insisted light-heartedly.  "I'll be right back."

Quietly she made her way down the basement stairs to where Spike lay, back to the wall, on a camp cot.  Kneeling beside his bed, Buffy skimmed a gentle hand across the side of his face, up and over his ear.

Without opening his eyes, he smiled and rested his hand on hers.

"Spike.  Come up and join us," Buffy pleaded softly.

Bringing Buffy's hand to his mouth, he kissed her wrist at its pulse point then opened his bright blue eyes. " S'alright, pet," assured Spike.  "I know that they don't want me there."

"I want you there," Buffy stressed.  "Please."  She stood up and pulled his arm gently.

"Determined little thing, aren't you?" he teased.

She pursed her lips trying to stifle a grin.  "I am."

Together they climbed the stairs and made their way down the hall to join the others in the living room.  As they entered the room, Buffy took Spike's hand and gave it a squeeze for support.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" Buffy said smiling.

"Merry Christmas," the others welcomed back. "Merry Christmas, Spike."

~ end ~


End file.
